"You have more luck than I do." He comments. Even his own mother was an enemy at this point unless he was useful for gaining power. As an exile that was unlikely that anything other than his murder facilitating a war that she would want from him.

Roan sighs and stays squatted, lowering one knee to the ground for balance. He'd trained children before so this was not an unusual position though he got the feeling this was not a child simply from the discussion. "Wars are two sided. We can want peace but if the other side chooses war then we have no choice but to battle."

He knew his mindset of diplomacy was strange for his own clan, for the grounder population in general. He clung to it when he could but fought when no options were left.

"It is similar for the heda." He pauses and then figures that she's not familiar with the language. "The commander of the thirteen tribes. They receive the fleim which as the memories of all the commanders before them. It makes them wise and gives them visions from the previous heda to show them the way. The fleimkepa trains and serves the heda and natblida; sees to the rituals for the passing of the fleim."

It still might not make sense. He was still furrow browed from the idea of a tree passing on memories. He wondered how that worked. Between heda, people, he could understand but from a tree to something that looked human was lost on him.